I don't believe in ESP, per se. That is, I don't think anything supernatural is going on, just that the human brain is so complex that the tiniest signals are picked up, passed on, and synthesized.
You can't be a retailer for long before you start to see weird patterns.
Yesterday was a perfect example. I got young couple after young couple coming in the door. Mostly in the 16 to 22 year old range. It started becoming really remarkable about half the day through, and continued on through the rest of the day.
Not only that, if they weren't a boy girl couple, they were likely to be a couple boys or a couple of girls. If they weren't a young couple, they might be an older couple.
But couples all the way.
It got so I asked, "Is there something going on downtown?" You know, something that was bringing that particular configuration of humans?
The only thing I could think of, was that maybe C.O.C.C. was starting up -- introduction day, or something. But that's grasping at straws.
Sometimes it's just a mystery.
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Couple of girls asking for the Crow.
Out of curiosity, I looked at the copyright. 1981.
"Wow," I said. "Guys with eyeliner wearing black have been around since 1981."
"They've been around for hundreds of year, if you think about it," one of the girls said.
"Yeah....in fact, I believe they sacked Rome," I said.
Times like this, I wish I could draw. A tribe of Emo Boys with ear-rings and fountain pens, throwing sacks over the heads of Romans.
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When we saw the ad for Inglorious Basterds at the theater, my wife turned to me and said, "I don't want to see that."
A couple of nights ago, we watched Mama Mia. I absolutely squirmed through the first 10 minutes, as the most girly flick I've ever seen giggled and squealed and bounced and trilled (or in the case of Pierce Brosnon, croaked) over my manly senses.
Oh........My........God!
She owes me.
Big time.
We're going to go see Inglorious Basterds.
(Though I have to admit, those ABBA tunes are pretty catchy....)
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"Mama Mia" is absolutely excruciating. Even Mrs Elliott had a hard time with it. Not because it was too girlie, but because she simply could not get past Streep: she's too big to disappear in a role like that.
But that notwithstanding, it was a tough film for This Guy to sit through. I felt the same way you did: she owes me.
But when I counted up the IOUs I found that I actually owed her that movie on account of the numerous times she has obligingly gone along with me to my choice of movie.
We did decide that District 9 was too dark and grim for her, so I went with my son.
Say -- I gotta come in and talk. When we camp, Mrs Elliott wishes I was interested in card or board games. Problem is that I can't, and never was able to, drum up any interest in such things. Show me a deck of cards or dice or Scrabble or Backgammon and I'm outta there. Casinos do not interest.
You sell a wholly different class of games and maybe there's something there that is actually more interesting than, say, the Game of Life turned out to be once I got past the intriguing board (when I was, like, 12).
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